Poem By Windsor Guadalupe Jr

At night when
I gaze at the tapestry,
Mild as a smoke
Of the midnight bellow,
I grow silent underneath
The plenitude of the stars
In this asylum of void
My solitude lengthens
And then flails
And here, I know that
These vapid hands
Cannot reach you:
A buoying, scintillating celestial.
You shed your
Ethereal sediment
Like the nameless sand
Carried through tramples
And here, now,
Underneath the stark night,
I am eagerly
Trying to haplessly
Catch all of your

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